Slaying the Darkness
by Kylara-Jade
Summary: I am no Saviour. No Champion of Justice or Chosen One. Heroism isn't my style. I was born in the dark, and in the dirt. I lived a life of fear, and learnt to run and to hide before I could walk. At the age of 14 I was given a chance to escape the monstrosity of The Dark Lords rule. I grabbed it with both hands and ran. My name is Emrysa Devere, and this is how I saved the world.
1. Chapter 1

Before this story begins, let me make something very clear.

I am no Saviour. No 'Champion of Justice' or 'Chosen One'. Heroism isn't my style.

What causes this story is not Destiny or other such nonsense. No prophecy foretold my actions and no songs shall be sung of my actions after it is done. This was a thing of chance, and at the time that it occurred, I thought of it as bad luck

Neither was any of my decisions made through altruistic means. The primary decision was made through desperate need and a will to survive.

I was born in the dark, and in the dirt. I lived a life of fear, and learnt to run and to hide before I could walk.

No family to speak of, I decided myself an adult at the tender age of twelve.

At the age of 14 I was given a chance to escape the monstrosity of The Dark Lords rule.

I grabbed it with both hands and ran.

My name is Emrysa Devere

And this is how I saved the world.

* * *

I ducked through the makeshift alleyways of crumbled buildings of the cesspool that used to be London. Flicking my short hair out of my eyes I pressed myself into a crevice, waiting for the heavy footfalls of my pursuers to fade.

It's the year 2057.

The Dark Lord has ruled supreme for nearly 50 years, since the fall of the 'Chosen One' at the Battle of Hogwarts. The story of Harry Potter and both the first and second wizarding wars circulate as legend amongst the remnants of what used to be a resistance. England has supposedly been purged of all muggle life. I am but one of few children born of magical parents that has evaded capture by the rampant Death Eaters and other servants of the Dark Lord.

The same cannot be said for my parents or my younger brother.

I slump down against the bricks, smearing dirt and grime down the back of my worn hoodie, a stolen wand clenched firmly in my hand. If I could have anything, anything at all, I would have my own wand. Legend tells of the wand choosing the witch or wizard. These days, possessing one in any form is the only thing that will keep you alive.

I let out a sigh, let my head fall back against the brickwork. This constant struggle for survival leaves you nothing but skin and bones, as well as a heavy dose of cynicism.

It starts to rain again, and I push back into my tiny corner, shivering as the wind cuts through my clothes. And then, suddenly, the brickwork gave out next to me as the ground crumbled beneath me. Arms flailing, and hands grabbing for purchase, I fell into the darkness of whatever lurked under London.

It wasn't a long fall, but enough to send shudders of pain through my body as I landed. Over the years, I learnt to like pain. It meant you were still alive.

Sitting up, I muttered a quick _Lumos_ spell. Spells were shared and picked up in duels, and this was one of my first and still one of my favourites. The large cavernous area that I stood in seemed untouched in comparison to the war torn city above. Moving slowly and carefully, I walked forward, edging around the debris from my fall, trying desperately not to make a noise.

I walked for what seemed like hours, constantly stumbling over rotting slats of wood, despite my guiding light. Until, that is, I saw a set of stairs. Scrambling up the small wall that had kept my path, I hurried up what seemed to be strange corrugated metal stairs. My frantic footsteps resonated easily, and occasionally, I'd freeze, listening desperately for any potential pursuer. Reaching the top of the stairs, I was welcomed by another cavernous area.

Large pillars stood tall and proud on parralell strips of concrete. Cracked screens were everywhere. Obviously a muggle establishment of which purpose, I did not know. Numbers were painted on the walls as I walked through the halls.

6.

7.

8.

9.

I froze. Sitting next to the pillar in between 9 and 10 was a figure.

"Who's there?!" I called out, my voice desperately cracking despite my intended bravado.

The head of the crouched figure turned in my direction, revealing an old and gnarled face to my light.

Steel grey eyes blinked up at me as I moved closer.

"Who are you?" I repeated, glaring down at him.

He gave a rasping chuckle.

"No one knows, not anymore, not even myself" he gasped out "Who are you? Or really, what are you? Do you fight for the freedom…" he trailed of in a hacking cough.

His riddles riled me.

"Yes, I fight for freedom" I replied chin tilted in determination.

His eyes narrowed at me.

"You talk strongly for one so young. Do you walk alone in this fight?"

I frowned down at him.

"I walk alone, but many still do fight the same fight."

He nodded his head slowly.

"This was never meant to be." He wheezed "Destiny was defied and fate rewritten."

In a startling movement his head snapped round to look at me again "Would you choose to rewrite it again?"

I gave a cold laugh

"Would I choose to be able to not run in fear? Would I choose to be able to walk in the sun without watching my back? Old man, what kind of a question is that?"

Eyes narrowed again he reached into his tatters, bringing out a thick leather bound book. Roughly he shoved it into my hands, making me drop my wand. Again, in movements defying his age, he grabbed my wand.

Instantly I was fuming. I had relaxed, let myself get caught out. This kind of thing would get me killed.

"Then rewrite it. Bring about what should have been." He growled as he surged to his feet, my wand pointed directly at me.

I clasped the book to my chest as if to shield myself from the silver light that spouted from the wand and enveloped me. He was muttered something before grinning at me, and in a last ditched attempt I grabbed at the wand, pulling it from his hands, before the silver light pressed in around me and I knew no more.

* * *

Give this a chance, please? I may not be a regular updater, but inspiration struck, and I just had to.

I'd really appreciate any feed back :)


	2. Chapter 2

I felt myself flying. Growing up in a world such as I did, weightlessness is a foreign concept. If it isn't the weight of the world that's keeping you down, it's the layers of grime.

I was spinning and turning, and then the silver light gave one last shove and I thud against a wall. I still clutched the tattered book, and my wand fell next to me broken in two. I gasped for air, the force had stolen my breath from me. Almost immediately I felt cold tendrils creeping under my clothes and a wetness that left me shivering.

Oh joy.

Snow.

Because all I needed right now was pneumonia and frostbite.

As I grew accustomed to my surroundings, the general noise of a living populace filtered in. And as I relaxed slightly and lifted my head from where it had be tucked down towards my chest, my breath was once again stolen.

Not only was I pressed against a building, there were many others. No sign of crumbling walls or rotting wood. No pungent smell of burning, no rats crawling beneath the ruins, yellow eyes bright and feral, no matter the light. It was a bustling town. Despite the weather, warmth emanated from each building, as people happily wandered between them, thick coats swirling in a winter wind.

I shivered back against the wall, belatedly realising I was still clutching that damn book as I surveyed the alien landscape before me. The smells began to infiltrate my nose. Sharp spices and sugar were arising from what must have been a shop behind me. Finally gaining control of myself, I scrambled back from the wall, tripping at the loss of feeling of my bare feet in the snow. In garishly bright letters, the word "HONEYDUKES" was spelled out.

Stumbling back once again into the centre of what seemed like a main street, I ducked between the people hurrying past, taking in the names of the various buildings that surrounded me.

"THE THREEBROOMSTICKS"

"ZONKOS"

"TOMES AND SCROLLS"

The fear set in, the same fear that had kept me alive, even on my own for the last 3 years. The old man had sent me somewhere, some place that I had no idea of and no understanding of. Irrationality began to cloud my mind. I could feel my chest begin to heave in panic as I spun in a circle, trying to come to terms with what I was seeing.

Again, I stumbled, but this time I stumbled into someone, who quickly stepped back and let me tumble to the ground. With a sharp in drawn breath at the coldness once again seeping onto my back, I looked up and froze.

The man looking down at me had his face fixed in a sneer as he pointed his wand at himself and muttered a foreign spell. Flying around his face in the wind was long pale blonde hair. He cannot have been much older than I, but the hair…with a shudder I felt the darkness of my upbringing descend on me.

_I crouched down, in the dark, pressed into the warmth of my mother as I pressed a hand over the mouth of my noisily struggling little brother, who was being held by my father. Above us was a cloudless sky, but there were no starts. Just the eerie greenness of death that was the Dark Mark. Every small noise made as flinch, and I fought the urge to whimper._

"_Stay here" I heard my father whisper, as handed my suddenly quiet brother to my mother. "I'll scout ahead._

_Barely had he stepped out beyond the confines of our hide out, before a green jet of light hit him, sending him sprawling out in front of us._

_My mother choked back a sob. Tears were already streaming down her face as she Accio-ed my father's wand. Turning to me she pressed it into my hand before hitching my brother further on her hip._

"_If we go out, we go out fighting, and we go out together" she said, her eyes shining with determination despite her tears, "And we take as many of the rat bastards with us as possible."_

_I stood, my diminutive figure shaking in fear and shock._

_We stepped out into the night._

_Before us stood 3 hooded figures, standing in formation. The one in front tipped back his hood, his Death Eater mask still in place, but a river of pale blonde hair shimmered in the green light of the Dark Mark._

_As he raised his wand, I heard the curse, spoke clear and definitively in the cold night green jet of light seemed to move in slow motion as it moved towards my mother. My brother, sensing the doom that faced us all, began to scream._

_My father's wand shook in my hand as I did the only thing I knew how to._

_I turned and ran._

_Jets of light followed me, but I dodged amongst the ruins that had become my home as the thud of my mother's dead body hitting the ground reverberated in my ears and as the vision of the shimmering blonde hair danced behind my eyes._

Gasping for air, I scuttled backwards in the snow, away from the sneering figure with the hair that terrified me. Part of me knew, this was not my parent's murderer. But the panic took over as I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the pain of the cold, cold snow was causing to my nerves and did as I did all those years ago.

I ran.

Away from the buildings, the warmth, but away from the horrors my mind was reliving. Dark trees shepherded my path as I ran. Distantly, part of me noted it was a well-worn path, but no people.

I tripped again, a root covered by snow, and unbalanced by the book that I still held close, I fell onto covered cobbles, my knees aching in protest, as the panic took the chance to take over and I dry heaved. Coughing and gasping I willed away the tears that had begun to form in my eyes, and tried to regain my grasp on rationality.

I needed to find shelter. If I didn't find somewhere, the cold and snow would kill me. I could already feel it tugging at the edges of my consciousness, tempting me to find some warmth in sleep. I pushed up and forwards, my energy drained by my previous adrenalin rush. I stumbled forward, following the path, hoping that somewhere ahead of me, I would be helped.

I know not how long I walked that path, but my last vestiges of hope were dashed as my path lead to large iron gates. My hands burnt at their icy coldness as I dropped the book to shake them. Tears now ran freely. I slid to my knees, and then to the ground.

Wrapping my arms around the book, my last connection to what I knew, no matter how haphazardly it was thrown in my possession, I curled up in the snow.

Shivering and shaking, I accepted my fate as the darkness took over. 

* * *

I'm really enjoying writing this, and I'm so happy that I've already received a review, and so soon after posting! So thank you, **Bookluver1999**, it was a fantastic review to receive .

Also to my new followers, **Bookluver1999, dorkmaster42 **and **tomboy4997** I hope you continue to read and enjoy this story!


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